SNK Collection
by MotionlessInGrey
Summary: A collection of our work, all SNK-centered, varying from one-shots to poems. Focuses on thoughts and situations involving certain characters. We don't own Attack on Titan. Rated T for language and gore.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**

**Hello, again! **

**Vic and I have been writing some SNK stuff for a while now, and we both decided that it was time to do something with it. So this is going to be a collection of all our works, from poems, to one-shots, and some songfics here and there. This should be updated fairly quickly (since we have a buffer, possibly twice a week?), so keep an eye out!**

**Also: along with the work, the title, corresponding character, and author (either Victoria or myself) will be listed. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Format: **Monologue

_Tainted Innocence - Erwin_

_By: Victoria_

* * *

They still possessed innocence.

Their eyes still had a shine, a sparkle.

It pains me, to the core. I have to use children as tools.

Children.

They didn't deserve this. They didn't deserve to have their lives taken away.

Their imagination, their happiness,

Their childhood.

They shouldn't have to go through what I went through.

I endured the entire process to prevent them from going through it.

But here they stand, and it is not my decision to make whether they remain or leave.

And that's what makes the entire situation so damn frustrating.

Eager and ready,

They stood looking as if they would save the world on their own.

Of course, there are always a few in the group who know.

Who know that despite everything that's said, there is absolutely no chance of them surviving this entire ordeal without harm - mental, physical, any kind of harm.

Those are the ones I didn't like to be around.

They knew that it was my fault.

It was me making the decisions and controlling their lives, or sending them off to lose the life they had.

The guilt is unbearable, but it's even worse around them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Format: **Poem

_Freedom's Wings - Mikasa_

_By: Victoria_

* * *

You are the bird,

I am the key,

And these walls are the cage.

Feathers preened,

You impatiently await to be free.

But for what?

The cost of freedom is death.

I fear I am far too selfish to let you die so quickly.

Why can't you be happy?

Why can't you stay in your cage?

I can't lose you,

You can't fly away.

Not another bird,

Will ever escape me.

Not as long as

I am the key.

* * *

**A/N: This poem focuses on Mikasa's thoughts about Eren's ambitions, in case anyone couldn't tell. Please fav, review, follow, whatever floats your boat!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Format:** Songfic

-Lyrics will be in Italics and Bold-

_Sunday Bloody Sunday_ - _Jean_

_By: Samantha_

_(Song by: U2 - Album: The Best Of 1980-1990)_

* * *

_**I can't believe the news today**_

_**Oh, I can't close my eyes and make it go away**_

Another failed expedition.

It seems like they're just piling up on top of one another now, creating this giant mess that no one can ever hope to get rid of.

It wounds our pride, our name as soldiers.

It wounds _us. _

_**How long, how long must we sing this song...**_

_**How long, how long...**_

How much longer are we going to tell each other the same reassuring words over and over again? How much longer are we going to pretend that they work?

When you're exposed to something multiple times, it starts becoming routine.

Or, you become immune.

I think all of us are immune, now.

_**'Cause tonight, we can be as one tonight...**_

And we mourn our losses, acting like whoever died this time was important in our lives and always did something positive, all those things you say at the rushed and insincere funerals.

When really, they're all just nameless faces who unfortunately ended up as Titan food. It's the sad truth of it all, yet we wrap it up in something that seems nice in order to make ourselves feel better.

Even so, with every death it feels like another nail is hammered into our souls, the echo reverberating with remorse. It feels like the more you witness death, you only get closer to dying yourself.

_**Broken bottles under children's feet,**_

_**Bodies strewn across the dead end street**_

_**But I won't heed the battle call,**_

_**It puts my back up**_

_**Puts my back up against the wall**_

The worst part of it all is when we retreat, dashing back to our safe haven that isn't even fucking safe anymore.

Where all the villagers watch the black parade walking through town...

Almost none see our expressions. Almost none mourn with us.

The rest begin complaining, complaining about wasted resources and useless taxes.

It's louder than the person weeping behind you, than the pounding in your head, than the echoes of screams in your ears. You want to go up to each and every one of them and tear them limb from limb,

But why prove them right?

_**Sunday, Bloody Sunday**_

_**Sunday, Bloody Sunday**_

_**Sunday, Bloody Sunday**_

They don't know that you're restraining yourself.

You're silence is enough to answer their questions, to state facts instead of theories.

Like the fact that we're worthless, wasteful, pathetic.

_**And the battle's just begun**_

_**There's many lost, but tell me who has won?**_

_**The trench is dug within our hearts,**_

_**And mothers, children, brothers, sisters torn apart**_

It's so ironic.

We build up our immunities to whatever hopeful statement or confident reassurance we ever hear,

But never do we become resistant to what we see.

The deaths they count,

The screams we hear,

The red valleys we run across, trying to get home.

_**Sunday, Bloody Sunday**_

_**Sunday, Bloody Sunday**_

It gets to be too much sometimes.

Facing the facts is like facing the truth we all deny.

Locking eyes with your own mortality

Coming to terms with your own limits

Even your Maneuver Gear can't triumph over that obstacle.

_**How long, how long must we song this song...**_

_**How long, how long...**_

_**'Cause tonight, we can be as one tonight...**_

_**Tonight...**_

_**Sunday, Bloody Sunday**_

_**Sunday, Bloody Sunday**_

Your half-assed attempts to hold back tears are about as fruitless as a Scouting expedition.

They flow like rivers, cutting through the grime on your face, washing away the blood on your cheeks.

But what about your hands?

They are kept the same.

A grim reminder that you may have more blood on your fingers than someone may have in their body.

If they're dead like the rest.

_**Wipe the tears from your eyes**_

_**Wipe your tears away**_

_**Oh, wipe your tears away**_

_**Oh, wipe your tears away**_

_**(Sunday, Bloody Sunday)**_

_**Oh, wipe your bloodshot eyes**_

_**(Sunday, Bloody Sunday)**_

_Oh, God_

They're everywhere.

_They're fucking everywhere_

The hillsides covered in corpses...

You can't escape them.

You can't close your eyes,

You can't pinch yourself,

You can't wake up.

Because this nightmare,

Is your life.

_**And it's true we are immune**_

_**When fact is fiction and TV reality**_

_**And today the millions cry,**_

_**We eat and drink, while tomorrow they die**_

The tears that blur your vision don't do a damned thing

To help you not see the misshapen limbs

The glassy eyes, if any remain at all.

The tears don't do anything

To prevent you from spotting

People you know in the sea of nameless faces

People you laughed with

People you cared for.

You're friends are dead.

And yet here you stand,

Wallowing in your denial

And your shame.

**_The real battle's just begun_**

_**To claim the victory that Jesus won, on...**_

_**Sunday, Bloody Sunday **_

_**Sunday, Bloody Sunday**_

Because you're still living

And choosing to waste away your days

Living in fear

_Like fucking animals._

But why even ponder that,

When the dead would just do the same thing, if the positions were switched?

What's the point in even saying anything?

In mourning?

In wishing the dead a peaceful rest,

When you can't even get any yourself,

Because of all the nightmares?

Those tears won't do you any good.

They don't put out the fire

Fueled by your grief

And despair.

So there's no point in crying.

Because we'll all go down in fucking flames.

* * *

**A/N: I hope this fit Jean well. I love how his character develops over the course of the story, and I love how down-to-business he is. He's just interesting, really. **

**Anyway, I was super excited to do this song because it's definitely a classic by U2, and the lyrics were perfect for Attack on Titan. Please tell me what you think - criticism is welcome! Any comments are, really, because they help me improve. **

**Please fav, follow, review, whatever. **

**-Sam**


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